Idiot Twin Brothers, Life, and Other Oddities
by rawringdinosawr
Summary: My name is Allegra Valencia Ermacora and my semi-identical brother, Alessandro Leonardo Ermacora, and I were attempting to run from our dementia-controlled freak biological father who tried to kill us at almost every waking moment.
1. Prologue

Soooo this kind of my first fanfiction. Yeah, I'm a fanfiction virgin (please don't comment…).

Anyway, I'm kind of obsessed with the Marauders and decided to use them in this story.

Enjoy!

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I awoke before the alarm clock blared, staring at my attractive semi-identical twin brother sleep like a baby. It's been six years since our beloved mother, Elisabetta Ré, died of brain cancer.

I promised her that I would take care of my brother. Where he sure had attractiveness and charm, he most certainly did not have any brains. It wasn't his fault; he was born that way. No one but our father blamed my mother and her Italian witch genes. Our mother's last words were a promise to take care of him forever, from everything and everyone. She died when I promised.

I leaned over to the table at the side of the cheap, creaky, motel bed with its cheap, itchy covers and its cheap, dusty curtains.

Have I mentioned that it was extraordinarily cheap?

Anyway, we were located off the outskirts of New York City in the nearly not-there town of Middle of Freaking Nowhere, New York. There was a McDonald's restaurant, and a twenty-four hour diner, that was it. We preferred the diner, really, since it was open twenty-four seven. It was nice, considering that we made our schedule completely opposite that of the Sun's.

It wasn't as clean as the McDonald's, but had tired, happy, and plump little waitresses. It was an adorable place, with people with actual manners (surprising, since this wasn't exactly the South).

You see that right there? Right there was my inner girly girl come out.

Ew.

No, I don't have ADHD.

My name is Allegra Valencia Ermacora and my semi-identical brother, Alessandro Leonardo Ermacora, and I were attempting to run from our dementia-controlled freak biological father who tried to kill us at almost every waking moment. Until we have found a safe way out of the country, we would always have this lunatic chasing after our every move.

That's how Professor McGonagall, Hogwarts, an old man by the name of Dumbledore, Great Britain, rainy weather, and the Marauders came into our lives.

This is our story.

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I'll have the first chapter up by Wednesday.

Any comments are **_deeply_ **appreciated!

:)


	2. Nine Crepes, America, & a Professor

Alright, this is the first chapter! Please review!

No, seriously… review.

It's T because of swear words, 'kay?

Nothing else… for now, that is…

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I was awake before the alarm screeched its unwelcomed hello at nine thirty at night, early for us to get up. The light turns on my side of the single bed in the musty motel room that was the size of a closet.

My brother took up most of the space on the dinghy piece of crap that most definitely did not have the decency to call itself a bed. He looked adorable asleep; his mouth was somewhat open, most probably killing flies while they passed from his terrible morning breath, and his black hair was spread all across his tan forehead. I would hate to have to wake him up, but I had to, seeing as today's meeting was with a witch from all the way in Great Britain.

I scowled to the bumpy ceiling as soon as I felt my back pain and also felt the bed dip as my brother, Alessandro, nicknamed Ale for both his name and his initials, Alessandro Leonardo Ermacora, groaned. As I looked over to him, I suddenly felt his large hand smack my face, trying to silence the alarm clock I guessed.

My voice was muffled by his hand, but I didn't even attempt to lick his hand; he wouldn't even move his hand. "Get your hand off my face, you buffoon!"

He sleepily chuckled, blinking the weird golden crap from his hazel eyes. His black hair was splayed across his forehead and his wine-colored splashed birthmark on his jaw was red from his sleeping on it.

Ale always slept with only his boxers on. No, it did not scar me for life or for even longer. I _know_ that my brother is handsome, hot even. That didn't fricking mean that I hit on him, you perverts. All I was saying was that I recognized it, while my ugly ass was single and stuck in virgin mode as my brother, who, may I remind you, had the IQ of a second grader, got hooked up with chicks almost every week.

Surprised yet?

Oh, we hadn't even gotten started, honey.

Ale got up, his impressive body shifting as he got out of bed. I stretched, a yawn coming from my lips. We both fought for first in the shower, but seeing as my brother was so much stronger than me, physically only mind you, he won the every-morning arm wrestling match. I didn't even know why I tried anymore.

I sat on the plain little counter sink placie place. Small shorts graced my fat butt and a tank top tried and failed to cover all my fatty flesh. My finger poked at the exposed tan stomach fat, my nose wrinkled as I mentally scolded myself for eating so much the last couple of months.

My strange eyes went up to the cracked mirror. What stared at me back were these strange Elizabeth Taylor colored eyes. Of course, mine weren't as pretty as her's. Nothing could ever defeat Elizabeth Taylor's gorgeous eyes…

My straight black hair was stupid and plain. End of story.

I jumped as Ale came out of the bathroom, a sudden wave of hot steam encompassing my and his entire beings. Not only did I completely ignore my brother dripping wet in one single towel, I also ignored his question asking if I was alright.

Yes, I was fine. Why in Merlin's scraggy snow white beard would I not? I, Allegra Valencia Ermacora, was fine.

F. I. N. Freaking E.

Comprende?

Capiche?

Get it? Got it? Good.

I didn't need someone taking care of me. I was a femme fatale! I was at the top of my game and nothing was going to stop me!

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"I can't believe you ate nine crepes on your own, Ale," I sighed, tapping my foot against the floor impatiently and wiping at crumbs around his mouth. It'd been nearly an hour since the lady that we were supposed to meet was supposed to meet. She wasn't there yet. And we were the only ones in the place, besides the cute waitresses.

Ale was about to speak, yet stopped when I raised my hand, wanting him to swallow the huge bite of Dutch crepes before even daring to speak. "It's not usual. I mean, unusual. I do it every day. You're nervous, aren't you, Ave?" Ave were my initials and also meant "bird" in Spanish.

The heat radiating from my fourth cup of hot joe warmed my always chilled hands. I sighed and glared at the dirty canister of napkins as I thought my answer out. Sammy's Diner was as dirty as the ghetto, but damn did it serve fantastic food and have the best service in the entire world. We already had everything from the menu… twice each. We went there for every meal for ten days. What? It was very good, but not nearly as good as our Mother's cooking was. Her cooking had made all professional chefs' cooking look like utter crap.

I tucked a long piece of black hair behind my ear, speaking now that I was mentally prepared, "Yeah. I am. What if this one doesn't accept us too? I don't know what we'd do then…" He snorted and I sharply looked up, my purple eyes narrowing to nearly slits. Alessandro quickly apologized before nearly swallowing a crepe whole.

He knew how much of a temper I had. It was inherited… from my insane American Father who hates my guts because I looked like my Mother too much. Now, don't get me wrong; my dad loved my Mom, but that was before he was diagnosed with dementia right after our Mom died. He hadn't been the same since then.

The problem was that I looked like my Mother. I mean, we could have been identical twins except that she was totally beautiful and kind whereas I was the ugly sister (_not_ stepsister). My Mother was Italian, but was born here only because her parents were escaping Benito Mussolini around the time of World War II. She, and her mother and father, were also wizards. It was how both Ale and I got our wizard genes.

My Dad wanted revenge for leaving his children freaks in a society of regular human beings. This hatred for wizards started even before his dementia. And the worst part? He thought that I was his deceased wife! He was out to get us, the both of us, to stop us from "infecting the world", whatever the heck that meant.

The little silver bell that signaled a person's arrival to the diner dinged as a person walked in. Instantly, waitresses crowded whoever came through the door. A rather stern, but also polite, Scottish voice cut through their girlish giggles and laughs to make them leave the person, their conversations having dropped when the person did stop their endless chatter.

I gripped my ebony wand in my pocket, my hand clammy from holding onto to it too tightly. What I saw and what I expected were too very different things. The first thought that came to mind was that it was Dad. It wasn't, which honestly surprised me. It was a stern-looking woman, who was thin and was obviously not from around here based on her clothing.

I stood up and kicked Ale's shin when he didn't as well. He childishly grumbled and stood up. My hand extended, "The professor from Hogwarts, I presume? My name is Allegra Ermacora and this is my brother, Alessandro Ermacora."

She nodded stiffly, but didn't shake my hand. It looked as if there was a plank of wood straight on her back or something up her butt, actually. I awkwardly put it back to my side. _Yes_, I thought, _this is clearly a witch._

"We need to leave. Now," she said before walking out the door in a whoosh of her melodramatic robes. Both my brother and I looked confused, yet didn't question her authority in all of this.

It was chilly and cold outside, and I suddenly wanted the familiar embrace of my black hoodie jacket to camouflage myself with the night. She offered her arm to the both of us and we grimaced, not trusting her. "For the love of Merlin, if we do not Apparate now, then you might as well hand yourselves to your father and I doubt that you would ever want that," her Scottish accent apparent.

We gave each other a glance. He raised an eyebrow, a question in my authority as to if we should trust this woman we had only just met moments before. My purple eyes assessed her. She seemed formal, hardly a threat much less a kidnapper. Then again, she could've disguised herself with a polyjuice potion. There was a glint in her eyes that suddenly made me want to go with her to wherever we were going, Hogwarts most probably. I nodded to Ale.

We both took this woman's arm, not knowing where we were going or if something bad was going to happen to us.

All we did was hope for the best.

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How was it? Fantastic? Mediocre? Okay?

I'll be putting up the next chapter if I get at least five reviews, alright?

Review please!


	3. Scotland, Warts on Hogs, & a Lover Boy

I lied about the five reviews thing.

What?

I'm lazy…

I'm sorry I haven't had the chance to post this chapter up. My mother is making me do chores everyday, now that I'm in summer vacation…

Without further ado, here is another chapter.

Hope you guys enjoy it.

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Do you know when you're squeezed in an extremely tight tube while holding on to a twin brother who was squealing like a little kid and a woman you've never met before in your whole entire life until only five minutes before?

No?

That's what I thought too.

I wasn't lying when I told all of you that my twin brother shrieked like a little girl whose lollipop was just eaten by her mean older brother in Disneyworld. No, I wouldn't know what that would feel like. Do you really think _I_ would have had the ability to go to _Disneyworld_? C'mon!

Needless to say, my moronic brother landed right on his face when we landed on a grassy green hill. What good impression that was. Jeez, why not have him act like some homeless dog and start humping the lady's leg or something? It would make it all the better and I would be laughing my sorry ass off for the next fifty years of my pathetic life.

Sound appealing to you? Good. Because it honestly would have made us get booted out of the entire continent of Europa for the next century.

Only now am I glad that that didn't happen to us, even if we _did_ get in some pretty sticky situations. When I think about it, I needed someone to help, not only us, but also mostly _me. _I was a mother figure to my poor brother, his protector if anything went down and dirty. If I wasn't there to protect and provide, he would have died in three months, tops. Yet, I'm glad, glad that I had made it that far to have the mere opportunity to help my own literal flesh and blood just survive.

I guess, subconsciously, when we arrived in Scotland, most specifically in Hogwarts, I had made a panicked assumption that he didn't need me anymore. And I was right. He didn't. Ale had shelter and food and water provided to him, where he could easily make friends without me interfering and making us move again, somewhere more secure and safe. I was no longer _needed_, and that honestly killed me. It was practically the only kind of hobby that made my butt working twenty-four seven to constantly find somewhere better than the last and the last and the last…

You would have to call me needy then, 'cause that's definitely what I was and still am. It's who I am: a over-protective mother bear who needed some serious anger management therapy. Yeah, if you haven't bloody noticed, I seriously need therapy, not only for my anger, but also for my use of "colorful language" as stupid old hags refer it as.

Proper people irritated me back then, and they vex me a bit now, yet not as much, thankfully, lest I would rip their innards from their stomachs and choked them with their very own intestines.

Sorry. I knew I read too much Stephen King this week.

Anyways, we three were standing on the greenest grass one could ever see in the middle of freaking November in the _Scotland_ of all places, in the year of 1976. It was _freezing_ and I was not just saying—er, thinking—just for shits and giggles; I actually _meant _that it was colder than a dead dude's hairy ass out there. Both Ale and I shivered, not used to this insanely chilly weather, but Ms. I-am-as-cold-and-tough-as-a-boulder didn't even _seem_ cold. And that was kind of creepy.

We were facing a lake, a _huge_ one, which was so glassy as to reflect back the sky on its even surface. My head tilted to the sky, my breath fogging up the cold air in little puffs of clouds. My eyelids closed over my magenta eyes. We were safe. We were away from our father, hopefully, forever.

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**Alessandro's Point of View**

I didn't know what to expect when we got out of our home for our whole lives: America, but I trust my sister, even if she doesn't know the real me.

She doesn't know the real me only because she understated me dearly. She always has and most probably still will after all of these years. I loved her, and it wasn't a normal brother-sister kind of love. The thing I remember most before arriving at Hogwarts was looking at her when she wasn't looking and actually _seeing_ her, like it was the first time seeing her.

I was a selfish bastard, but I didn't care. Ave was burdened; we both knew it, yet I still burdened her further by acting stupid all the time. It wasn't hard, acting so dumb. It was necessary though, to slow her down, to push her persistent drive to find somewhere safe to get away from out father. She didn't know that I was helping him catch up. She didn't know that he was closer than she thought. Allegra didn't know how I betrayed her.

And the worst part?

I didn't regret it.

I still don't, which, I guess, makes me a major asshole. Even if I loved her with all my heart and soul, I hated that we were wizards more. That's why I disliked my mother so much. That's why, tempted by my father's alluring voice to end it all. That's why I injected that stuff in her veins, and she died only a few minutes later with my twin sister by her side, promising a promise that was as shallow as my façade.

My hazel eyes passed over the lake's edge, searching for any sign of life. Whenever I didn't act like an idiot, my eyes would have a sharper look to it, eyes from a predator who was on the hunt for something juicy and good, full of life in which it will take that life away. That only happened when Allegra wasn't looking. I looked at her, turning my head to the right a little.

Ave thought that she was born fourteen minutes ahead of me. In reality, I was the one who was born first. She felt entitled, then, because she was older, to become the protector and the provider, a mother before she was a mother. She didn't know. It was better that way, to keep her in the dark, to protect her while she didn't know anything. It was my protecting her in return for all that she has done to help us, help _me._

I wouldn't need her when we arrived somewhere safe, permanently, and that made me sad. It didn't mean that I wouldn't see her everyday, yet without her filling that space next to me, I felt kind of empty.

I looked over at her again, the sharp November air cutting into my throat, my restricting throat that closes up whenever I see her. Allegra was beautiful. She was fiery, with a temper that easily outmatched one of a bull's, and she was strong-willed. I knew that if she were given a challenge that she wanted to be resolved, she would easily find a solution and perform it with grace and with the ferociousness of a tigress protecting her cubs… me, being her one and only cub. Allegra would fight for me tooth and nail, and nothing would stand in her way too long unless they wanted to either be violently castrated or gently lynched.

I chuckled at that, my own breath fogging the cold Scottish air. My breath-fog touched my face, momentary warmth over my reddened cheeks and black hair that hung over my eyes. Ave's eyes opened and I almost sighed. Her eyes were water-washed lavender eyes, turning a lush deeper color if she was angry and a paler if she was serious. She was relaxed, so it was an in-between. I glanced down at her flushed cheeks, a slight smirk coming on my lips. Her own red lips were twisting into a small smile, a quizzical look passing over her pretty face.

"What?" She pushed back her smooth straight black hair from her face. I had to look away from her face to resist the temptation to scoop her up and take her back to the U.S. I was about seven inches taller than her, her being five six, which made me about six one.

I shook my head, my black hair ruffling in the wind, the hint of a smile still on my lips, as if I was amusing myself with a private joke. "Nothing, Ave. I think we need to run to catch up to… what's her face again?"

Allegra whipped her head to look behind her, seeing a dark dot going up the hill to a giant castle.

"Holy crap. I'm not dreaming, am I?" she whispered, her eyes widening at the mere sight of the dark building. It was pretty big, as in two or three cruise ships big. That size of a place intimated me, making me feel like an ant in comparison to a human's boot. I glared at the building without trust in my eyes; however, Allegra looked at it like it was salvation, light at the end of the dark tunnel.

That was the difference between her and me. I liked the dark. I enjoyed it. The dark, the bad in the world, and me were good old buddies. We knew each other very well, to the point of nighttime brotherhood jointing. I was the dark and the dark was I. There was nothing overly complicated about that small fact.

But when it came to Ave, my dark retreated back to its hellhole and everything was… okay. Not bad, not terrible, not atrocious, but _okay_ and okay was _good_. It wasn't my thing though. Albeit I basked in her warm welcomed sun-lit embrace, it wasn't _me._ Only the worst out there understood the true me. Not even my own sister would understand me that I did know. Only those who were like me, those who know a certain truth to life, would ever begin to understand me.

The same applies to Ave. She's too good to be understood by me or by any other like me, my real brothers and sisters by spirit and cruelty. Someone who somewhat has her background, our background, will be able to comprehend and make her feel remotely safe from me. Why me, you may ask? Because I fully recognized that I was not good for her, and perhaps never will be.

It's a dangerous game that I play, and I know how to play it; I'm the master, my sister is the puppet. I manipulate her to what I wish.

I need someone to stop me, to help me, from destroying my own twin sister.

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**Allegra's Point of View**

Ale was glaring at a point in the ground, scuffing one spot in the ground with the toe of his shoe. He appeared as if he were thinking, and thinking hard. Poor thing. I felt my lips purse, my hand stretching out to shake my brother's arm. He sharply looked up, his eyes softening when he laid eyes on me. I gave him a wicked grin. "Race you to the castle."

Alessandro smirked and raised his hands to the sky, stretching melodramatically in preparation of running. I snorted when he batted his eyelashes at me. "I'll give you a five second head start, honey." He purred his words out, stretching like a cat that got the milk. With a honed pinch on my left forearm making me remind myself that he was my bro and that the idiot was truly an idiot, almost one without a freaking brain.

"Ten and you got a deal." Ale and I shook on it, his grip nearly crushing mine. He put his face close to mine. "May the best _man_ win. Good luck, Ave."

I roll my eyes. We were so competitive, that it was suffocating. "No, good luck to _you_, moron." I leaned over, preparing for when he would get the race started already. A cold breeze passed over my exposed pale legs, making gooseflesh pop up, even on my arms and shoulders. _I so got this_, I thought confidently, or, over-confidently more like. I didn't care. I was going to win this thing.

"GO!" And with that, I took off. The cold hair made my hair whirl crazily around my head, my legs pumping to win what I've never won before. The cold was sharp knives in my lungs, a welcoming yet unwelcoming feeling to have. It was the feeling of freedom and unrestraint. It was of hot summer days and cool shadows, and of cold winter nights and a warm fire. It was freedom of worries, of all regrets and dishonesty. It was a beautiful feeling, to be running just for the hell of it rather than running from your psychopath of a father. Yeah, anything could beat _that_ feeling.

I looked over my shoulder, seeing Ale start. My brother was strong, and, to top that off, was an amazing athlete. So, as you can see, I don't win. Ever. And this is an opportunity that is much too good to not take up.

Then, someone ran in me. Actually, _I_ ran into someone, and we both fell, somehow twisting so that I was on the bottom. Whoever this was was fit as anyone, a perfect body, toned and probably having a six-pack, an eight-pack if he were that ripped. His arms went around me, buffering the blow of the fall as we went down. Our bodies fit in all the right places, and I was blushing madly at that fact. The first thing I noticed about my unsuspecting and shocked victim was his beautiful clear gray eyes. I couldn't count the numbers of shades of gray were visible in those eyes. They were wide with shock, dark and slightly girlish eyelashes curling up towards the sky. His hair was a dull black, as if the hair had given up competing with his eyes. Overall, I gave him a solid twelve out of ten from my sexiness-o-meter.

This guy then gave me this _smile_, a smile made shivers go down my spine. "Hey there. I've never seen you around here. Mind giving me your name, love?" This guy was roguish, someone I am hopelessly attracted to, yet am disgusted by his utter doggedness. His British accent was smooth and good, almost like the best quality of chocolate or the taste of sweet iced tea on a hot day. He had surprisingly white and straight teeth for a Brit.

I gritted my own teeth, turning my head to the side and away from him. The dude seemed pretty confused when a girl didn't want to be with him. "Get off me, dog." He blinked, once, twice, then opened his mouth, closed it, opened it, and closed it. I raised an eyebrow.

"You… you're an American," he managed to get out of his gaping mouth. This guy still had his mouth open, as if he still couldn't believe it. I put a finger under his chin, lifting it up, and closed it for him. The end of my mouth quirked up in a half-smile, I was visibly smiling at his idiocy. "It's best that you don't catch a fly, don't you think, fishy?"

Just then, Alessandro appeared. His hair was windblown, his cheeks red, and his breath coming out in very big fogs. He knelt beside the dude that was still on me. _Why was this guy still on me again?_ Ale got this deathly look in his eyes that I was afraid would come out in his actions. "I suggest," he growled under his breath, his voice becoming louder, "that you get your filthy self off my sister before I poke your eyeballs out and feed them to the crows."

With that, the guy sighed, almost sadly or was it just me, and rolled off of me, on the opposite side of me. Ale helped me up, his hand clutching my own. I glared at him, knowing how protective he got when boys around us paid attention to my ugly ass, for reasons unknown to Alessandro and I as well. He pulled me in a half-hug and I struggled against his strong grasp on my tiny frame.

"Mr. Ermacora. Ms. Ermacora. The Headmaster is waiting. Come," said Madame McGonagall. We jumped when we heard her voice; she was standing right behind us even if I didn't see her before I got up from my laying under a very attractive man who was still on the floor leaning on his elbow, looking ruffled and so very inviting…

Ale tugged at my arm, dragging me from the world's most attractive man, who laid on the floor, looking like a lost puppy, one that I wanted to hug and kiss for eternity.

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Review por favor (please in Spanish)!

Edit: I'm a hard ass for doing this, but I need at least _**FIVE**_ reviews to go on.

It's just because I loovvee to hear your feedback~


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